Backdrifts
by Syntax
Summary: White sky and cold, she tracks her enemy and thinks of snow. ch 6 up
1. Snow

**_Disclaimer_:** The Metroid franchise belongs to Nintendo, no profit is being made. Poor pennyless me.  
**_Archive_:** Sure, just let me know  
**_Note_:** A spark of intuition to write while I was listening to_ Backdrifts_, by Radiohead. It made me think of Metroid, and this as a result. An added note that canon is slightly off in this story as K2-L is referred to as a planet and not a colony on Zebes  
**_Thanks_:** To everyone who has suffered through reading my work. Have a cookie.  
Feedback: Makes me happy  
_**added note from Syntax:**_ I know I've completely neglected this story, but I have every intention of finishing it. Time, unfortunately, has just not been on my side lately. But the upcoming release of Echoes is making me dig up this moldy old thing and attempt to work on it - so I _will_ finish it! ...eventually.

****

**Backdrifts **

It was peaceful here, she thought as she stared out at the bleak whiteness of the planet. The freezing cold gathered around her in waves of drifting powder, but she couldn't feel it. The armor she wore made sure of that.

It was an odd sight, almost a storybook snowy landscape, panoramic view from behind the cut ridges of her visor. Unreal, dreamlike. She was sure though that she was quite awake.

The snow was piled high, and she trudged through it, making her way toward the small building that was almost invisible. The brown of the log cabin specked with white, even after zooming in with her visor, was difficult to see. But it grew in size as she walked toward it, as picturesque as the rest of the environment. She smirked at the sudden urge to capture the moment in a painting, no matter she hadn't the taste for such menial things.

Her suit felt like a part of her. She hadn't been out of it in days, chasing one objective and lead after another, no time for rest. She wondered if the old bird would scold her for overworking herself like this. The smirk softened at the thought.

The door was locked, and Samus cocked her eyebrow in an appraisal of the cabin. She felt the oddness of something so _prehistoric_ . . . especially if the man she sought on the other side was truly whom she thought him to be. Her informants were hardly ever wrong.

She rapped her fist against it, some of the snow dislodging and fluttering on her suit. She wiped it off as an afterthought, and heard the shuffling before the door cracked open.

"Inside inside, hurry it up, we aren't all armored you know."

She raised her eyebrows at the strange welcome, the source of the voice having disappeared as soon as it had come, the door open a crack. Stepping in, she closed the door behind her, glancing at the man who huddled himself in front of a fire, a quilt around his shoulders and a sour look on his face. It was obvious he didn't appreciate being barged in on, but he didn't seem surprised. Perhaps this happened often.

"Well?" He said, looking to Samus in mild irritation. He wanted her to get to the point and be out, but she didn't answer right away, taking the moment to study him. He was humanoid in appearance, younger than she would have thought according to her information, close to her own age. His blue eyes were bright, complimenting his dark-brown hair that was combed back neatly. Prominent cheekbones and jaw on a narrow face gave him a lean appearance. She guessed him to be attractive if only he had a bit more weight on him, surprising herself with the thought. She never normally gave any attention to that type of thing.

Her scrutiny was unnoticed behind the mirrored visor. It seemed to an outside observer that the tall robotic figure just stood there, looming. She realized then she hadn't even said a word, though he merely raised an eyebrow at her.

"I was informed you know the whereabouts of a certain gang of Space Pirates. They're small time, not belonging to any of the other major heads, but they took down a Galactic Federation outpost a few days ago."

His expression didn't change, and he stared at her for a moment more before turning back to the fire. "Yes, I know their whereabouts. But I'd like to know why you want that information."

"That is none of your concern. If you would like payment, I will oblige." Her voice was devoid of any expression, and to him, it came out mechanical. The breathing apparatus of her suit coupled with her emotionless tone had often left the mistaken impression that she was not alive, merely an android. The rumor amused her a great deal, so she never really went out of her way to indicate otherwise.

"I don't want payment," he scowled, snapping her attention back to his irritated features. "You think I live here because I have to? I live here because I like it here. I don't need any shit from anywhere else. Money is no good to me."

"Then what do you want for the information?"

A strange look passed over the man's face, and Samus wasn't sure what it meant. "I want to know why you want to know. You said yourself, they're a petty gang, not worth the time of the Federation."

"I think you know I'm not part of the Federation."

He looked up at her. "Yeah, I think I know that. But I'm a man of knowledge. I like to know things. I'd like to know about you." He turned from his seat, staring at her openly, a brow furrowed in a bit of concentration. "Most men who seek me out, they do the usual. Money for information. But I have a sixth sense you could say. I can read a man like no other, not necessarily through his face. I can read his posture, his way with words."

"You must be proud." Samus said dryly. She had the urge to roll her eyes, but stopped herself, momentarily forgetting that he couldn't see her. She didn't have time for this little chat, the sooner she discovered where the gang was, the faster...

The faster what? She could kill them? Torture them? See through to her revenge? She frowned slightly, deciding she could think of it when the time came. To the man, the figure didn't move.

He smiled, genuinely amused with Samus' sarcasm. "At least I know there's someone alive in there. Could have fooled me otherwise."

He reached over to the table, where a thermos was opened and poured into a cup. "Care for cocoa?"

"No." Her patience was running out.

He smiled again, filling the other cup anyway, reaching down and sipping his own. "Why don't you have a seat?"

"Time is important. This is not."

He smirked, sipping again at his cup. "I disagree. Time may be important, but the use of it is equally so. To sit, to enjoy one's self, that is the true nature of life."

"Life is not leisurely. There is always a purpose, an action to be taken."

"Hmm." He tilted his head in contemplation. "But can the action not also be pleasure?"

"That is not..." She faltered. "Important."

"So what is important?" his posture did not change, but his blue eyes locked on with hers.

She tightened her lips, ignoring his question. "Look, if you can't give me what I want to know, then I'm wasting my time."

A smile broke onto his face. "And finally, I see a human trait. Irritation, frustration... avoiding the question." He stood, dropping the quilt onto the well-worn couch he had been sitting on. Crossing the room, he reached for a small wooden writing desk, pulling open the drawer to take out a relatively small, sleek device. He flipped it open like a book, fingers tracing down code that appeared on the dual screens.

She felt a small sigh of relief as he seemed to be retrieving her request. But he paused, as if hearing her, and turned. "I can give you the coordinates, tell you where they are stationed."

She could feel it coming. "But...?"

He smiled a strange smile, glancing back to the screen to tap at something, a small square disk popped out. He pulled it loose, standing, and turning to face Samus.

"But, I'd like to know your name."

Samus frowned slightly. Asking her to take off her helmet, about her intentions with the pirates, she expected. Not something so simple as a name.

"Samus," she paused, "Aran"

He nodded, stretching his arm outwards, the disk in his palm. "Samus Aran," he repeated, as if in assurance. She took the disk. As her metal hand reached out, it seemed so much larger than his. She could have reached out, and taken his hand, and it would have been dwarfed in her own. So ironic, she thought with a small smile. Had she not been in her suit, they would have been the same - height, girth. His hand would have matched her own.

The disk, secured in a small compartment in her leg casing, sat safely within the confines of the tempered steel, though Samus wondered what the substance truly was. Steel could never have held up against some of the resistance she faced.

"Be sure to remember what is important in life, Samus." The use of her name felt odd, but he did not seem to be deterred. She again noticed something in him, but it was gone in an instant, and the grumpy expression she had first seen settled on his features. She decided he looked better when he was smiling.

"Don't leave the door open too long," he said frowning, going back to the couch and wrapping the quilt around himself once more. Samus stared at him for a few moments, the table where a cup sat, filled with unasked cocoa. She turned, feeling oddly saddened by the encounter, opening and closing the door quickly, making her way back to her ship.

_We're rotten fruit  
We're damaged goods  
What the hell, we've got nothing more to lose  
One gust and we will probably crumble  
We're backdrifters  
  
This far but no further  
I'm hanging off a branch  
I'm teetering on the brinkOh honey sweet  
So full of sleep, I'm backsliding  
  
You fell into our arms  
You fell into our arms  
We tried but there was nothing we could do  
Nothing we could do  
  
All evidence has been buried  
All tapes have been erased  
But your footsteps give you away  
So you're backtracking  
  
Ah ah ah  
You fell into our arms  
You fell into our arms  
We tried but there was nothing we could do  
Nothing we could do  
You fell into our, ah  
You fell into a  
  
We're rotten fruit  
We're damaged goods  
What the hell, we've got nothing more to lose  
One gust and we will probably crumble  
We're backdrifters _

_-Backdrifts,  
__Radiohead_


	2. Knowledge

**Part 2**

She sat in the cockpit, the disk in her hand, sliding it into the computer on the deck. Making a hum of noise, searching, data soon filled the screen and as Samus scanned the text she felt the sudden need to take off her helmet.

With a hiss of pressure she lifted off the piece of suit, and took in the recycled air within her ship. She was still on the snowy planet, not having taken off yet, and strands of her blonde hair, wet from sweat fell loose from the tie.

The text was an official hacked Federation document. Her brows rose slightly, wondering just where the man had gotten this from. The Federation system was secured to almost a ridiculous degree, no one could have gotten this unless they worked there.

She frowned a bit, eyes lifting from the screen to the panel of glass that let her see outside. The cabin she had left looked as if it had never been there, only white drifts stretching as far as she could see. She shook her head slightly, wondering just what was with that man.

She had gained her main informant after she had done a small retrieval job for him. While he had no actual money to pay her, Peco did have connections, and it was precisely what a beginning Bounty Hunter needed. After on and off contact with him, her informant helped her gradually gain the solid background of jobs done and her recognition grew. But one thing he never could give her was a solid lead on a mission somewhat more personal to her.

"It's too insignificant to get anything stable on, Samus," he had said after months of dead ends.

She had promptly threatened him colorfully, asking him what the hell she was paying him for. Years later, he contacted her and left an address. The coordinates to a man with limitless information who could get you anything you wanted to know. Samus had been skeptical. There would no doubt be a heavy price attached with such an apparent well of knowledge.

Peco said he had only ever met him once. The man was said never to have left the icy planet of J43-786. Samus thought Peco was a little too caught up in gossip, but he insisted the hermit knew everything there was to know. And since Peco couldn't get Samus what she wanted to know, he referred her to someone who could.

She never thought anything of it. Unsure if this guy was for real or not, she decided to give Peco the benefit of the doubt, and headed to the frozen planet, following the coordinates given to her.

Whatever she had expected, was not what she found.

He was strange, no doubt, but he made her think twice, and she hated that. Samus normally followed her instinct, she never dwelled on anything, making snap decisions. The old bird had once told her she would make a brilliant tactician.

"_If only you did not hate so."_

She smirked at the memory. .

Her eyes went down to the screen once more, scanning through the base damage report.

'All armed soldiers were killed, most by high-powered weapons at close range. A small battle was evident, and there were no survivors. Of all base personal, only seven are accounted for. The remaining sixteen are missing, but presumed dead.'

Samus frowned in thought, unsure of what that meant. She had been tracking these Pirates for some time now, they never took hostages. And if indeed they were dead, they would hardly take the bodies with them. No, there was something else going on here.

She scanned down to the analysis report on the pirates, most of which she already knew.

'Reports indicate that these pirates were independent, while we have infiltrated most of the major Space Pirate sects, there has been no indication of such an order for an attack. Federation psychoanalysts suggest they are not a newly formed gang, but are a constant source of attacks across the Alphares galaxy. There is no constructed pattern, but Federation agents have tracked them as far as the Morangeous Nebula. J3-930 is thought to be headquarters.'

She felt a smile, and as she reached for her helmet, she knew redemption was at hand.

----

Patrick Kowl sighed slightly as he sat at his Federation issued desk. Not even high enough in their standards for an office. He scoffed.

Kowl was the type of man that personified gruff cop. He was well into his late forties, had a continuous growth of stubble on his face that never failed to tick his partner off, and a lined and weathered face that he was told scared small children. Of course, Perkins was an ass, so he didn't take the comment to heart.

He stared down at the assortment of case files scattered among the numerous screens on his desk. One in particular had his attention, and he rifled through the report given to him by one of the rookies.

The raid on the Federation post, and he was assigned to investigate. They had already uncovered the who and when, but not the why. The Galactic Federation didn't tend to care about that last part, and though his case was about to come to a close, he didn't like the feeling it gave him. Something a little off, a thing anyone else would have ignored, thinking small time. Space Pirates were hardly a new occurrence, and the gaining strength of one particular gang had most of the Federation worried. The head was known only as Mother Brain. The gang was stirring up trouble, looking to be a formidable threat, but the Federation figured they were on top of it. Kowl doubted it.

So of course, when a small, independent gang shows up like so, it's brushed away, handed to him. They thought he was a fading agent, not useful enough to be given the hot cases, infiltration of Mother Brain's gang and other cases along that line. Well fuck. He glowered a bit more.

But this case, supposed to have been shut, was not. He kneaded through the information, the headquarter coordinates sitting silently on the database computer. But there was no action. There was no interest. Well Kowl sure as hell had some interest. He had a feeling, and he was sure the only person that took him seriously was his partner.

Who incidently had just entered the room, heading towards Kowl, holding a disk. Mack nodded slightly to Kowl, and handed him the small square plastic.

"What's this, Mack?"

Mack fought a frown. "Autopsies. Like you asked for."

"Ah right. Just checking." He smiled charmingly, and Mack smirked.

Most wouldn't have had a second thought about Mack, had they not seen her. Her name was like the hard-nosed detectives Kowl had thought about in the ancient histories of man. Kowl was a human, born and bred, with ancestry leading back to Earth. Mack, was not, which was quite funny when Kowl thought about it.

She was a Mestivinian, a race of bipeds that aside from two hands, legs, and a head, had nothing in common with humans. Gender was an iffy thing, and Kowl wouldn't even have known Mack was female if she didn't tell him. Her skin was covered in rubbery, rope like appendages, eyes only a single slit in her face, mouth a slit below it. It was hard to judge her expressions, but Kowl had mastered the art of reading a person. And he could read Mack like a book.

She shoved the plastic disk irritably into Kowl's hand, he smirked as he took it and stuck it into his computer. The screen flashed to life with images of each of the deceased, including a long and very boring looking report.

"Mack, what does this mean?" He asked, not bothering to try and understand it all. She sighed, or at least let out a gust of breath that could be taken for a sigh. Kowl wasn't sure if she actually knew what a sigh was, but didn't waste time thinking about it.

"It means nothing. Nothing was found, just death from close range high-powered blasts. Usual Space Pirate weaponry."

Kowl frowned. "Nothing eh?"

"Nothing." Mack paused, then added as an afterthought. "I don't know what you expected to find, but maybe the Federation isn't the way to go about it."

Kowl raised an eyebrow at his partner, her strange face blank. Mack, the most devoted, by the book agent, asking him to get a little dirty? Huh. A smile spread on his face.

"Get off it." Mack said, with what Kowl was sure would have been an eye roll had she had the proper eyes. "I'm going home. You can sit here like that if you want." She didn't hesitate at all, turning swiftly to leave much like she arrived.

Kowl smirked a bit, going over what he knew. Using as much of the resources available to him, he had found the group wasn't young. Similar random attacks that fit the profile stretched a good twenty or so years back. The Federation simply had not cared about it, or followed it through. Other more important things seemed to take precedent over a few scattered attacks on space colonies and outposts. Never entire planets.

The first case reported that Kowl had associated with these pirates was of K-2L, a small planet with the beginnings of civilian colonization. The atmosphere was being converted, and hopes were the planet would be livable in a century. Yet there had been no survivors after a vicious raid, though the report curiously enough included the involvement of another race. The Chozo.

Kowl had looked them up on the database, they were an ancient race, keepers of highly advanced weaponry and technology. Near K-2L was the planet of Zebes, the home of the Chozo. Kowl thought back on Federation involvement with the race- they had openly shared technology until recent years where any attempts by the Federation to offer an alliance were rejected. The race had become fiercely independent, and aside from a few skirmishes involving the pirates, were wary to involve themselves in anything. Kowl wondered about that.

Finding that almost everyone else had also left for the night, Kowl stood, grabbing his jacket, and left the building. The atmosphere was created on this planet, glass domes still covered much of the sky as large machines pumped and re-filtered breathable air so the planet could be populated. The Federation building was the largest of the structures, and as he left it, strolling along the mostly empty roads, he realized how dead it felt here.

The bar he frequented was a welcome change. It was smelly, grungy, and just the way he liked it. Taking his place at the bar, he gestured for a drink, glancing at his watch. He had sent an outgoing message just before he had left, so his informant should be here anytime soon.

In the meantime, he got pleasantly on his way to being drunk. Before arriving there he glanced over towards the doors as they swung open to let in a small gray being. He smirked, remembering the old myths that used to be associated with that race from human standards, a lot having to do with anal probing. He let himself laugh at that, realizing he was further along to being drunk than he thought.

The gray being hopped up on the stool, glaring at Kowl, face seemingly impassive. "You smell like crap, Kowl."

"Thank you, Peco. You're a good... man..thing."

Peco shook his head. "What did you call me for?"

"Information my good buddy, information."

"But of course."

Kowl tipped his glass up at the gray alien, taking another swing. "Tell me Peco, you know anything about Space Pirates? Not big guys, small time. Attacked a base a bit back."

Kowl thought he saw Peco start. "What?"

"Nothing." He answered too quickly, obviously thinking about Samus' similar request, but not that Kowl knew anything of it.

"So?"

"Well.." he trailed off, looking as if he were considering whether or not to divulge whatever he was about to say. "Not me personally. But I know of a person who could."

"Yeah?" Kowl looked sober for a moment as he took in the information. "Who?"

"A hermit, lives on a lifeless planet, but he knows a lot of things. More than me by far."

"More than you, Pecky?" Kowl laughed, "I wouldn't have thought anyone knew more than you."

Peco ignored Kowl, not sure if it was an insult or not. "Granted. And don't call me Pecky."

"You should get drunk sometime, Pecky. Its fun."

"No it isn't. But you go ahead and have your fun." Peco shook his head, hopping off the stool to leave. Kowl was about to shout that he hadn't left him the coordinates for the hermit, but caught himself as he saw a paper scribbled with the numbers. Funny... he hadn't seen him write that. And where did he put that paper? Wasn't like the little guy wore any clothes. Kowl decided to stop thinking, and grabbed the paper, stuffing it into his pocket. He'd have to swing over there after his hangover wore off the next day. But that was yet to come, and he ordered another drink.

----

Space never failed to amaze her. The inky vastness, specked with pinpoints of lights, stars that were light-years away, but looked so insignificant. Surely, she thought, each of them housed an orbit of plants and spawned life. She loved that thought, infinite stars with infinite life.

The coordinate for the home base of the Space Pirates were punched into her computer, and the autopilot took over, leaping into warp speed. Even at the rate they were going, it would take a few hours to get there.

In the meantime, Samus had taken off her suit in the deceivingly roomy space of her ship. She felt the grime from the days of work on her skin, and wanted desperately to get cleaned off. The inside of her suit probably smelled like something awful, so she had put it into the autocleaner, before taking a turn herself. Not nearly as satisfying as an old fashioned shower, but efficient enough.

She wondered not for the first time, exactly what she would do once she got there. Infiltrate the base, of course, and seek out the leader, taking great pleasure in killing him. Yet the Chozo elder had looked at her, saddened. As if he could foresee the bitterness that would forever taint her. But didn't he realize she couldn't rest until she had killed them? Those who had taken everything from her.

"_But you refuse to acknowledge what you have gained. Strength. Intelligence. Passion."_

The voice of the old bird that nagged at her always, whenever she thought of the satisfying feeling that would accompany the death of the space pirates.

"_But death is not an ending. You will not feel absolved."_

"I know" She whispered, for the first time admitting to herself that this would not quench her thirst. She would continue on her path, but the face of the Chozo she thought of as a father, the one who had been taken from her, and the faceless parents that she never knew would not let her rest. She had to kill them, there was no other way.

"_Just remember, our newborn. Do not bury yourself in your hate. Lift yourself from it, and continue your fight."_

And she would continue the fight, for as long as it took. Her thoughts quieted, and she rested during the journey. It felt as if she had barely closed her eyes when the computer beeped at the approaching planet.

Surprised, she realized it wasn't a planet but in fact a moon as the ship veered towards the smaller mass. It was green and blue, reminiscent of earth, not barren and rocky like most moons. Samus guessed it might indeed have been a planet, but was pulled into the gravity of a larger one.

She stood from where she had lain, dressing in the Power Suit that the Chozo had given her. The visor powered on, and she blinked as her vision adjusted to the screen, sitting back in the cockpit to guide the ship down safely.

The entrance to the atmosphere was rough, and the ship shuddered through it as she flexed her muscles to steady the control. The landing was not exactly smooth, but they settled, and she checked the computer for surrounding life signs. Other than small native creatures, there were none.

She exited the ship with a deep breath, readying herself for the battles that would surely follow.

Opposition was light, and the creatures preferred to ignore her rather than attack, but her arm stayed on her cannon. Pushing her way through the thriving plant life, Samus thought she felt them move with her, and she considered that perhaps the plants here were their own kind of creatures.

Her visor beeped, indicating a large structure and she followed the path it gave her, pushing away the greenery and stopped short.

So obviously not a part of this planet, the large steel structure made her crane her neck up as far as her suit allowed, following the tall tower, for it seemed only to go up, not out. She wondered at the efficacy of that, but thought nothing of it, curling fingers over her cannon just that much more tightly before she stepped forward.

----

Kowl frowned as he stared out from the main deck of his ship. Snow. And a lot of it. He frowned some more, fastening the hard suit more securely to his body, and pulling on his helmet. By god, if Peco was lying to him he'd personally skewer the alien and eat him for dinner.

The snow was hard to get through, and flurries came down, obscuring his vision even more. The visor on his suit was beaded over from the melting snow, and he glowered. The Federation issued Hard Suit was a piece of shit. While more of an office man, Kowl had seen his days of action. Too bad his own suit shorted out on that mission to Scartesh. He sighed to himself, trudging through the white drifts, wiping at his visor to squint at the brown blob that he assumed to be where the hermit lived. The mother-of-a-hangover-that-hadn't-worn-off-yet didn't help matters much, and even now, a slight throbbing of a headache bothered him.

Approaching the home, he saw a rather blurry version of a log cabin. Very rustic. He smirked.

He fisted a hand and banged loudly twice on the door, hoping there was someone in there, or this would be just a complete waste of time that he didn't appreciate. But sooner than he thought, the door creaked open, and a hand ushered him in before closing the door shut.

Kowl looked around at the lived in quarters before taking in the hermit himself. "Tell me, what is this air?"

The man raised an eyebrow, but answered anyway. "Oxygen, carbon dioxide. Safe." He added as an afterthought, and Kowl pulled off his helmet, eyes adjusting to the dimly lit cabin. He frowned at his helmet, meaning to corner someone and complain about the visor.

But he didn't get far in his mind, thinking about the amount of expletives he'd like to cram into his request. His eyes took in the other man, and his haggard face twitched a bit as he observed that he was a man who not too long ago must have been a boy. Humanoid in appearance, if not slightly ticked looking at the intrusion.

"Don't tell me. Peco sent you?"

Kowl smirked at the irritated tone of voice, thinking that Peco had been sending quite a few customers the way of this guy. It seemed it was the answer he wanted, and the man went back to his couch, settling himself down, smirking a bit as Kowl did the same across from him.

"I take it you want information?"

Kowl tried to study the figure before him, but his training at reading faces faltered. The guy obviously wore a hell of a good poker face.

"How intuitive." Kowl replied, slouching back. "If you don't mind me asking, what the hell are you doing on this shitty planet?"

"Actually I do mind you asking," The man replied icily, but Kowl took no heed of it. "But not for lack of courtesy, I'll answer your question. I have a feeling it would be bugging you long after you left here."

Kowl nodded, smiling a bit. So this young man was reading him, as he himself was trying to do. Interesting.

He glanced out to the window. "For one, I like solitude. But that aside, it's my eyes. They aren't exactly perfect, no technology can fix them." He smirked, glancing back at Kowl. "I suppose you couldn't have guessed that I can't see you. Oh I know you're there, I feel your shape, your mannerisms, but I don't see _you_." He paused, smiling strangely to himself, and Kowl furrowed his brows at the revelation. No, he wouldn't have guessed. The man acted as if he could see perfectly fine.

"Something about the white snow, and the white sky, and the reflection of the sun on it. I'm able to see it. The only thing I can see, but it's beautiful."

He smiled slightly, wistful Kowl could guess. He turned back to his guest, no proof of what he said with his eyes fixing on Kowl's face. "What did you want?"

"Information, of course."

The man laughed a bit. "What makes you think I have information?"

Kowl looked at him in disbelief, then a slow realization. "You know I'm Federation. How?"

"I don't need to see you to know that." The man said, shaking his head.

"I'm not here to arrest you. I know perfectly well a lot of what you know you shouldn't, and sure as hell probably should be arrested for. I'm not here as an official cop. I'm here as a customer, wishing to know certain things."

"Hmm." It was not affirmation, but Kowl figured it wasn't dismissal either.

"And payment?"

"How much?"

The man snorted, not amused. "How about protection? You make sure the Federation doesn't know about me."

"Fair enough."

The man glanced up at him, and Kowl wondered how if he couldn't see, he learned such a gesture. But he figured this man's problem was not as simple as blindness. "I need to know about a space pirate gang."

The man's face registered something, but Kowl had a hard time figuring out what it was.

"Why?"

"I'm the agent assigned to the case. And I want to know the real business with this scum. I know you have information that I don't, things that are not in the federation base."

The man furrowed his brows. Kowl of course hadn't known the other man had useful information, but his bluff seemed to have worked. The man answered carefully, repeating Kowl's words. "Yes. I do have information on them. Information not on the federation database."

Kowl grinned, "Good."


	3. Discovery

**Part 3**

She couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement, adrenaline surging through her veins as her lips turned up in a smile. It was a predatory look, and her steps were quick and stealthy as she entered the Space Pirate base. The darkness was not surprising, a push of a button and her visor switched to night vision. The hues of green and black gave no illusion to this place, instead intensifying the haunting clinical look to everything.

Samus frowned slightly as she took in the architecture of the interior. The walls looked to be a series of interlinking geometric shapes, and with a start, Samus suddenly realized they were moving. It was a subtle pulse that gave an illusion of a gigantic creature taking slow and steady breaths.

This base was not like the others she had visited. The inner workings of potential technological breakthroughs were not spread before her as they had been in the past. The only thing that spoke of Pirate ambition were the breathing walls. This place was strangely empty, but not abandoned. It seemed there had been someone here, maintaining the pristine cleanliness of the entire place. She never thought to associate hygiene with Space Pirates before.

As she took in every hallway and door, it lead to more emptiness. Only cavernous dark rooms devoid of even a speck of dust. She stopped in one, flicking off the night vision before reaching out to press the switch for the lights. The room was illuminated in bright florescent white, and she was somewhat disappointed that nothing felt the need to jump out and attack her.

It seemed almost like a holding cell, a slab jutting out from the far wall that she assumed to be some sort of bed, though entirely uncomfortable looking. Yet as she squinted, amplifying the image through her visor controls, there seemed to be some kind of powdery substance speckled on the surface. Her brow raised in intrigue- before now she had found absolutely nothing that could even suggest a sign of someone having been here.

Reaching down, her metal finger scraped along the edge of the bed, and she brought it up to her face to examine the fine white crystals that clung to the smooth metallic tip. Though her suit gave no indication of temperature change, what she once thought of as powder seemed to be ice crystals. Gathering up some more, she set it in a small vial, placing it safely in her leg casing for further analyses.

As she left the room to continue exploring, the narrow hallway emptied out into a large circular chamber lit from some unseen source. Yet the entire chamber was white, the light reflecting off the walls in almost a painful way, and Samus was forced to raise the tint on her visor to retain any kind of comfort level.

The room was tall, and again she had to crane her neck upward to take in the entirety of it. She guessed she must be in the center, and this room stretched almost as high up as the building itself. Numerous computer terminals were set in groups along the center of the room, and she tried to scan the information, instead finding encrypted data that she couldn't decipher. There were a plethora of locks put on these files, and Samus felt her curiosity go up another notch. There was definitely something going on. It would only be a matter of time before she put an end to it.

She stepped across to each terminal, finding the same sealed data files. Deciding she would have to come back here, she continued across the wide room to the opposite hallway, finding it near identical to the first, pausing to make sure she hadn't turned herself around by accident and wasn't backtracking.

There was a notable difference as Samus stepped into the lift to the second floor. Her suit beeped as the temperature dropped and she exited into another computer room. This time, she happily noted, there were two Pirates overlooking a terminal, communicating in their own screeching language. Whatever it was they were doing was causing an obvious argument between the two. Amused, Samus stood back and let them notice her on their own.

They didn't, the fact becoming more obvious as one of them let out a long angry roar, pointing at the monitor. The other waved its claws wildly in response, and impatience began to tug at Samus.

"Looks like they need a mediator," She muttered, and locked on to the one on the right, charging her beam to let loose a shot that ended the argument quite nicely. The first stared for a moment at the corpse of the other before turning towards Samus in clear surprise. She didn't waste a moment in firing, causing the pirate to drop down onto the floor, flesh still hissing from the blast. Samus looked down at them in satisfaction before reaching to drag the two corpses off into a corner.

Her eyes returned to the monitor the two pirates had been arguing at, looking down to see an open file. The type was not in the usual Pirate language, instead a numerical code that stretched down into pages of data. She furrowed her brows in confusion, but began the download. Perhaps she could find someone that could understand what it meant.

After the file completed, an obvious video file caught her eye, and she typed the numbers and extension before the screen was filled with file footage of what seemed to be an operating room. Pirates were hunched over something she couldn't see, but she realized it also contained audio when the patient let out a horrible wail of pain. She flinched at the sound.

A blurred object at the edge of the screen moved away before re-appearing near the operating table as the wailing continued. Yet the moment the figure stepped back into view, Samus felt a horrible realization claw at the base of her stomach. The figure was not that of a pirate, it was very human.

The man, dressed in a white lab coat that had his back to the camera gestured for one of the pirates to move away, giving Samus a better view of the patient. Its condition was terrible, whatever distinguishing features it had were marred, blunted by abuse in what she assumed was its capture. Thick viscous fluid pooled in the grooves of its face, bleeding out from long slits on either side. Unsure if they were natural or from the work of the pirates, Samus watched as the human leaned down, taking out a syringe and injecting the creature with something, causing the screams to die down. The man turned, and she could see the pixilated face, mouth stretching into a pleased smile.

Nothing could ever really throw Samus off balance. Yet as she watched the footage with her face tense, she could feel a haunting empathy for that creature, and her mind reeled in the knowledge that someone was _helping_ the Space Pirates.

So caught up in her own mind, Samus didn't realize she wasn't alone until the computer terminal exploded from the high power shots of a Space Pirate weapon. She spun around to face her adversary, rolling out of the way of another shot that turned the table into a pile of charred electrodes and rubble.

She swore to herself as she tried to scan in the new enemy, her visor not having enough time to give her the specs of the new pirate before she had to turn and evade another attack. The thing was big, and it towered above her, talons looking sharp enough to cut steel. She very much did not want to test that theory with her power suit.

The pirate seemed more brawn than brains, and it destroyed more terminals in its haste to obliterate Samus, no doubt countless information becoming only fried bits of plastic. The rigid steel armor it wore was lined with tubes, pumping god knew what into the creature's body as it let loose another barrage of shots from the weapon strapped to its arm.

Her mind in a state of strange calm, Samus only focused on its pattern of attacks, finding the interchanging habit of shooting at her and charging at her. She dove away from another flurry of claws, rolling to her feet to shoot at its back with a few rockets. The creature howled in pain as the shells exploded, and it turned around with unbridled fury, all knowledge of possessing a weapon gone as it ran towards her at an unfathomable speed.

Samus dove out of its path once again, hitting the ground hard but wasting no time to reflect on the bruises that were surely forming within her suit. Again a round of shots were fired from her cannon, along with another rocket, and this time one of the liquid filled tubes burst, dark and shiny as it spilled out fluid.

The creature gurgled strangely, and clutching at its face, Samus stared in fascination as three long slits on either side of its face stretched open as if gasping for breath. A sudden tightness in her chest formed as realization slowly dawned on her. This was no regular pirate, this was the former patient she had just seen operated on. What she assumed were gills opened and closed slowly, and began to dribble the same black fluid before the creature stumbled, and with a horrendous thud, crashed into the center of the room.

The silence was almost deafening in the aftermath of the short battle, and Samus breathed deeply, slowly coming down from the adrenaline high that usually accompanied. She checked her suit condition and vital signs through the computerized visor, finding minimal damage that could easily be repaired in a short while. Her own flesh was slightly bruised as she had guessed. Her eyes then returned to the victim, for she had to admit to herself, attacking her or not, that's what it was.

Approaching cautiously, she leaned over the large corpse, able to look over the creature in greater detail. Yet she was somewhat confused, for the arms and legs were clearly that of a space pirate, and not of a water dwelling creature. There was no easy way to propel itself through any aqueous solution, for its limbs were blunt and heavy, as was its overall size. Surely larger than the one she had seen operated on.

It must have been a hybrid, the only explanation she could come up with. Perhaps also the reason for its unbridled aggression against her. Yet it must not have been a success, for as she studied it, she realized there were numerous scars across its body. The tubes that had strapped into the armor were probably a way to keep its circulation running.

She sighed slightly, standing straighter. No doubt, the pirates would have more of these creatures, and the monsters they created through them. Looking up, Samus found the open door the creature must have come through. The same bright white walls were stretched along the tunnel, and as she followed it, they opened up again into a chamber, this not nearly as large as the former.

The room was a cold blue, the lights tinted it seemed, and the large glass cylinders that lined the walls glowed from the florescent bulbs. Bodies floated in preservation liquid, the same species as she had seen, but these not experimented upon. These were the creatures in their true form.

At the base of each tank, a digital screen read there were no life signs. Merely more corpses, not one of them alive. Only three tanks at the edge of the line were empty.

Now as she looked, she was sure these beings were indeed aquatic, yet still had two arms and two legs, though the skin was not leathery, but scaled. The eyes stared ahead, lifeless, and Samus could feel a shudder unbidden run down her back. Pale blue irises, though they may have seemed such a color in the light, yet almost human.

She turned away, unable to look any further.

----

Kowl sat in front of his monitor back at HQ, mouth turned down in a frown as he watched the video footage from the disk he had been given. Mack sat next to him, her face impassive as always, but Kowl could see the slight crinkle around her mouth in a show of disgust.

He had gone through the entire contents of the disk, finding pages and pages of un-coded data. The man who gave it to him had said he had already saved him the trouble of trying to decipher it. They were mission logs, autopsy reports, results from chemical analyses. Mountains of data collected through years of research. And they had thought this group was the equivalent of petty thugs. Kowl snorted.

There were numerous video files of different operations, almost all of them with the same species of alien. A race Kowl had tracked down to a small aquatic planet on the outskirts of the same star system that the pirate base was on. They seemed to have discovered the fluid that the creatures secrete as blood had very exciting tenancies. The properties of the chemical makeup were similar to fuel used to power machinery, yet was completely natural within the bodies of these creatures. But the pirates were apparently on the edge of some kind of breakthrough. Not only could this fluid be used as a fuel, but if integrated with other species, could result in limitless possibilities.

The base report had said they were taking their findings to a better research facility. The base recorded within the Federation files was mostly abandoned, though some test subjects were still housed there.

"I knew it. I just knew it." Kowl shook his head as he watched the pirates cut into the patient, the screen having been muted a while ago from the constant screams emitted by each patient. "Didn't I tell you, Mack? I knew it, god damn it all, I knew it!" His voice began to rise and Mack shot him a look for him to shut up.

"Where did you get all this?" The suspicion in his partner's voice was not obvious, but it was there. "And why aren't we taking this to the chief?"

"Protection." Kowl muttered offhand. He didn't want to get into the unique situation that brought him this information. Though he knew Mack would never turn him in, he did know she'd give him hell for offering a very knowledgeable criminal protection from the law. Too knowledgeable actually. Kowl wondered not for the first time, just where the hell _he_ had gotten all this from.

Mack didn't inquire further, but he could tell she wasn't at all satisfied with his answer. "What are we going to do about this?"

Kowl actually had no idea what he was going to do, and was going to tell her that before the screen revealed another party walking into the screen. A man with a syringe and a smile.

"What do we have here?" His brow crawled up into his hairline as he leaned forward to stare at the monitor. The human man turned after administering the shot, but not before Kowl noticed something imprinted on the shoulder of his lab coat. BSL. Biologic Space Labs. "Oh shit." His voice came out a whisper, and he turned to his partner in shock.

Mack nodded. "Shit."

----

It felt like such a waste when Samus exited the pirate base. Aside from the data she had downloaded but couldn't understand, she felt she hadn't gained any answers. Just more annoying questions. The greenery of the planet was off putting after the whiteness of the base. She couldn't understand what this meant, what she had to do next. Only a small battle, and the outcome was fruitless.

What had she even expected when she stepped onto this thriving moon? Samus knew that she wanted to feel the exhilaration of wiping out this sorry gang, to finally be able to _breathe_ again. Ever since the Old Bird had told her of her origins, she couldn't stop. She had to keep going, keep fighting, no matter what it did to her. But what happened if she had nothing left to fight?

She had turned the base upside down. Finding mostly empty rooms like the holding cell she had found the white crystals in, there was little else she could discover. There were no more pirates here, and thinking back, she was surprised there were even the few she had killed.

Perhaps they had moved on to somewhere else, taken those Federation base hostages to operate and experiment with like they had the aquatic creatures that now floated dead in tanks. She wondered at why they would do that, Space Pirates never had any interest in humans. But it seemed whoever they were working with did.

She had been walking, making her way through the foliage back to her ship as her mind raced. She needed to find out more, and her hand reached to a com device on the dashboard of her ship. Dialing in a sequence, she waited.

A hum of noise and then a voice. "Yes?"

"Peco... I need information."

----

Andrew Price sat idly within a small diner on the outskirts of town, sipping a mug of steaming coffee that was gripped between his hands. A rather frail man, he seemed more like a stiff wind would blow him over, while in truth he was the most hardened Federation Officer that had worked for the better part of his forty seven years. But though he was far from old and quite capable of continuing his work, he had resigned early from duty. There were just some things in his life he didn't want to continue to see.

He was only visiting this planet as he usually did every other month, taking in familiar sights and streets. The office building he would have frequented most days on work, or the dark corners he would be investigating. Of course, life was better now. He had to remind himself this numerous times, but there would be no way he could have continued to work like his close friend. Pat was a bastard, he liked it in some kind of perverted way. Or maybe it was just that he still enjoyed the thrill of his work.

He didn't have much time to ponder over it as he finished off his second cup of liquid caffeine and gestured for a third. Yes, giving up alcohol grated him badly, but his wife insisted. Coffee was the only thing that kept him going.

A thump of someone sitting in front of him knocked him out of his thoughts and a slight grin formed on his face. "Well Pat, punctual as always."

Kowl frowned at his friend's smile and crisp English accent. "And you Andy, as much of an ass as always."

The two men shared a smile, insulting each other as only friends would do. "You seem perky."

"Do I?" Kowl said, looking miles away. "No, not perky really." He shook his head. "You'd never believe this case I'm on, Andy. Shit, I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Oh, so you're out of the grunt work then? Surprising. Chief Hardy hates you more than he hated me." Andrew laughed to himself at the memory of the rather large man yelling obscenities when all the two could notice was the amount of spittle leaving his mouth. They both wore raincoats one time, and needless to say the gesture wasn't appreciated.

"Well, you did say good hygiene and uniform is protocol, Chief." Kowl had reminded. "Can't do to have our suits sopping wet every day."

Andrew shook his head at the memory.

"Not hardly." Kowl replied, bringing his friend back to the present. "More like grunt work that turned out to be something more. I'm still looking into it, but it sure as hell is shaping up." He grinned. "Just like old times."

Andy laughed. "Yeah, right. So how's your partner doing?"

"Mack is almost as much of a bitch as you were."

"Oh you know you loved it." Andy smirked. "Don't deny your sexual urges for me, Pat. I had to keep pushing you away. 'Im not like that, old boy.' I'd have to say."

Kowl let a good humored bark of laughter out of his throat. "Melissa would have been most displeased with me."

"Aye." He smiled at the mention of his wife. Wonders never ceased that she still stuck with him. Pat always reminded him he was a lucky bastard to have found her. "So. What's this case then?"

For a moment, the mirth left his friends face. "Its strange, Andy. And I think this is something I have to look into without uh... letting the superiors know. I have a feeling its big."

He raised both his eyebrows. "Is it. Damn Pat, having all the fun without me?"

Kowl chuckled, then looked away in thought. "Actually.. I think I am going to need your help on this one after all."

A moment of silence and a clipped "What?" There was a serious air around them, the joking gone. "Oh no, you can't do this to me. I told you Kowl, I was out of it. I'm not going back, I can't. I'm happy for once, Melissa is happy. Its been almost three months since the last time she threatened to walk out on me. We're getting somewhere... I can't risk that."

"I'm not asking you to come back to the force, Andy." Kowl said patiently, for once understanding on his face. "Its actually the reason I need you- because you're not connected anymore. All I want you to do is look into something for me. Melissa works at BSL stations, I want you to convince her to look into some information there."

"If this risks her, there's no way in hell I'm letting you off." There was a veiled threat in his voice.

"No, it wont. And I'll give you the gun to shoot me myself if it ever happens." He looked at his former friend and partner hard, "Andy. I'm telling you - if this is what I think it is, there's no telling the implications. But for me to understand, I need Melissa to find me information. I can't access that stuff, I don't have the authority and I can't risk revealing my intentions. What if it goes past Hardy? Into the senior offices and partners? Shit Andy... try to understand. Remember how it used to be."

He pursed his lips, silent for a moment while Kowl held his breath. "Okay. Fine. Tell me what you need her to do."

Kowl let out the breath. "Information on any rogue or missing scientists, accused or tried for malpractice. Anything that could imply someone at BSL who was let go and has the knowledge for interspecies experimentation. Or maybe, someone who still works there." The last part was said more as an afterthought, and Andy stared.

"This _is _big isn't it?"

"Very."


	4. Apathy

**Part 4**

"Detective Vkul Mack. Detective Patrick Kowl."

Mack looked up at the monotone announcer, slightly surprised at hearing her own name coming from the speakers.

"Please report to Chief Hardy's office."

She let out a choice swear in her own native tongue and stood from the computer terminal rapidly. Kowl had gone off somewhere with very little indication he was planning on coming back anytime soon, leaving her to sift through the mountains of data he had somehow obtained in a highly illegal manner.

Her partner never ceased to infuriate her. But she trusted him, and knew he trusted her - it was all that mattered really. And anyway, she couldn't rightly ignore what was in front of her. However his methods, Kowl had brought her some astounding Pirate reports.

Of course, now she had to see Hardy, who would no doubt question her investigation on the planet. Mack wasn't young, three hundred and seventy four years of life in Earth terms had taught her a few things about society and the hierarchy of the Federation systems. She herself only become a cop eleven years ago- before then, her planet had been involved with a never ending civil war. She had fought valiantly for her people- and now there was a brittle peace. She knew the meaning of tact, and she had to be careful when speaking to her superior.

Tapping the door before letting herself in, she took in the sight of an overweight humanoid male in his sixties. Finishing off a last bite of his lunch, he waved her in, a bushy eyebrow raised at seeing the absence of her partner.

It was almost a legend around the offices - Chief Hardy and Kowl's never ending feud. Hardy would yell, and Kowl would find it funny, trying to find more ways of making him mad. It was almost sad that a human male of Kowl's age could still act like an adolescent boy.

"Why am I not surprised to see the absence of your partner?"

"Detective Kowl is, if anything, a creature of habit. Sir." She added after a moments delay, her own deep resonating voice an intimidating feature she always used to her advantage in situations like these.

Hardy snorted in annoyance. "Yes, I do seem to understand that about him. Well, I want to know your progress on the Federation Base attack."

Mack thought furiously quick, not a change of expression on her distinctly alien face. "We have been tracking the Pirate group, sir, trying to detect any pattern in their attacks. So far they seem to be very random- we.. I believe it was just a vengeance attack, a way to spit in our faces as it were."

"Right right, of course it was. I just wanted to know if you figured that out yet," he replied with a glazed expression. Mack let out a snort of laughter that sounded like a creaking noise, which Hardy failed to recognize.

"I want your report on this, we've got another incoming case I'd like to put you two on. But I'll wait for Kowl before I do."

Damn. Any pretense of investigating the Pirates would look out of place if they were given another case. "With all due respect sir, we are far from finished."

"How's that?" Hardy said with his eyebrow raised.

Mack hesitated, though it did not show up in her voice. "While I myself think the theory of a random attack is sufficient, my partner thinks it may be deeper than that. He thinks the Federation cops may still be alive."

"We both know, Detective, that what Kowl thinks is invariably wrong." Hardy huffed in dismissal. "But I'll give you a few more days to wear him down. If you two don't reach a consensus, I'm forcibly pulling you off the case and leaving it inconclusive."

Mack nodded, glad to have bought them a little more time.

"Be sure to send Kowl my way when you see him."

Mack made an affirmative noise, though she had no intention of doing so. It would only lead up to Kowl blowing up and being an imbecile with suspensions as a lovely gift for them both.

----

"Tolricians."

Samus didn't respond, but waited for Peco to continue, his voice tired on the other side of the line. "What, is that all you got? Tolricians? What the hell is that?"

"Patience. Really, you hunters need to watch your blood pressure."

Samus didn't choose to be amused. "And you'll need to watch your neck if you don't get to the fucking point."

A disgruntled noise came from the other end, and Peco started again. "It's the name of the race you wanted me to look into. And let me tell you, it took me a very long time to find it. There wasn't much I could go on since all you told me was a vague description of what they looked like."

"So very sorry. Now, what did you find out?"

"Well, nothing at first. But then I checked around the space pirate base coordinates you contacted me from, and found a very small description of one planet in that system on the official Federation files. Almost got caught too, not that you'd be concerned any."

"You're perceptive."

"Never do fail to amuse me, Samus." She allowed herself a small grin, longing to leave the ship and breathe a bit. She needed to get out of this suit, blend into a crowd somewhere and get absolutely drunk enough to not have to think for one night. But she couldn't, not when she was getting closer than she'd ever been.

"So, you got coordinates?"

"Yes, but unfortunately the planet is barren. The Pirates had desolated all of the planets in that system, none sustain any sign of life."

Samus felt her forehead crease. "You mean they're extinct?"

"In a manner of speaking. But you tell me you've seen live ones. I'm thinking the pirates took them back to wherever they're housed now, at least what's left of them. Maybe even breeding them there to keep a continued supply of genetic material to work with."

There was a disgust in Peco's voice and Samus felt it mirrored in hers. "A species whose only existence is in pain."

Peco didn't respond, but there really wasn't a need to. She sighed, hands rubbing at her tired eyes. "Thanks Peco. That's good enough for now."

"I'm sure I'll hear your lovely voice soon enough." A slight edge of sarcasm was inlayed well into the voice, but Samus let it slide, well aware of the irony of the statement. She sounded like a crude motor forming syllables when she wore the mouth piece of her helmet. The transmission ended, and Samus thought hard. She had a name, but she needed more. And the only place she knew that could help her was one she wasn't looking forward to returning to.

----

Melissa Price was a petite woman, a face that was still beautiful in a simple way. She had a tired look about her, something world weary in her eyes, but her smile was pleasant and shy. Dark hair was loose about her shoulders in a particularly fetching way. At least, Timothy Gable thought so.

He was a scientist, one of the best that BSL could hire, and one of the most intelligent people Melissa knew. His face had a boyishly handsome look to it, even as he approached middle age, and she was hard pressed to deny the attraction. If only physical.

Bending down over her work, Melissa studied the data chart of a strain of cells belonging to one of the potential rookie Federation officers. It was her job, if a slightly boring one, to look over all physical attributes of the patient. The Federation was made up of a number of different intelligent species - it wouldn't do to hire one that could be lethal to another simply by standing next to them. She seriously thought working at BSL stations would give her more interesting projects, but she seemed to have gotten the luck her husband had and was stuck with the grunt work. She tossed the file on her desk and clicked away on her computer about the negative results.

Which was a why she was immediately thankful when Timothy sat lightly on her desk, interrupting the tedium. That was the only reason, she assured herself.

"Hey Mel. Lets get some lunch." He smiled winningly at her, and she smiled back. Non flirtatiously of course, she thought. Only to be polite. And even though that tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her about that little ring on her finger, she seriously considered the offer.

But sense won out in the end. "Not today, thanks. I'm a bit busy, and thinking about getting home early today."

His smile faltered slightly. "To Andrew's waiting indifference?"

She frowned. "Really now. I don't think that's any of your concern." _He has really nice eyes.._. her traitorous mind supplied helpfully, "Andrew and I are quite happy together."And they were, really. Andrew was beginning to mature, once again becoming the man she first fell in love with. She felt slightly guilty about the way her thoughts were going, and turned back to the screen of her computer. "Go on Tim, I'll take a raincheck."

Obviously miffed, he slipped off from the edge of her desk, turning to leave. She snuck a last glance at his retreating form before she looked up at the clock. Almost everyone was at lunch now. It seemed as good a time as any.

Melissa had to admit to a slight thrill as she walked over to Tim's desk, logging onto his computer. He had much higher security clearance than she did, and to do what Andrew asked of her could only be done from here. It was also nice to know Tim trusted her enough with his password. _"Oh Tim, my computer is being a total jerk. Mind if I use yours?"_ She knew he wouldn't say no.

Immediately she went to work

----

"You do know she's married."

Tim ignored the voice.

"And you do realize her husband will not simply murder you, but most likely cut you up into little chunks, but only after he pulls out your intestines and choke you with them"

That was decidedly harder to ignore, so Tim glared at Craig as he leaned back in his chair in the lunchroom. "You're sick, you know that?"

"Hey, I only report what I know."

Tim did not like to think of Craig as his friend, his co-worker, or even his complete stranger. In fact, he wanted to avoid the man as much as he could. Mostly because of his absolutely annoying logic.

Melissa Price was a woman above her husband. She could do so much better... "_Like me,"_ he thought bitterly. And he knew he saw her interest. It wasn't hard to spot, most women had the same expression when he talked to them. But there was something about Mel that was different, a glint of humor in her eyes and a mischievous grin.

"Stop smiling, you look like a goober."

"A what?"

"One of those things that smiles like that."

"Thanks. That helped." Tim went on to ignore Craig from then on, eating his lunch before he felt a tap at his shoulder. Preparing to growl angrily at Craig to get him to just _leave_, he instead turned to find Dr. Lavenski, the head of the research department at BSL. His boss. And he looked pensive.

Not good.

"Mind if I have a word with you, Tim?"

He nodded, standing as Craig spared him a curious glance, following the older man as he led him away from the cafeteria, into the offices.

The BSL building was one of the largest branches, save the original still on Earth. Tim always thought he was lucky to have a job of so much prestige, a place to let his knowledge and intelligence reign among people just like him. Dr. Lavenski was an old man, one of the most experienced BSL member alive today, and Tim had to admit a slight hero worship for the guy. He had single handedly found cures to numerous infections and diseases, new power sources and weaponry to aid the Federation. He was why this building existed.

But the old scraggly man with white tufts of hair around his ears and small spectacles on his nose had a harsh expression on his face. He led Tim to his office, having a seat at his desk before gesturing for Tim to do the same.

"Tim, you're a bright young man. One of our brightest."

Tim smiled politely, wondering just how bad this was going to get.

"But we've had a few alarms set off recently, all of them from your computer terminal. You are a high man in this place Tim, well on your way to further promotions if the cards fall right. But you have been downloading highly classified data, that though you may have access to, is completely irrelevant to your current projects."

In all his intelligence and charm, Tim managed to only stare in befuddlement.

Lavenski took off his glass, small beady brown eyes as cold as Tim had ever seen them. "Why have you been accessing these files, Tim?"

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're speaking of." Tim finally found his voice, his jaw working slightly before the words came out.

Lavenski let his face twist slightly as he stood rapidly from the desk. "So you had no idea Melissa Price has been using your computer?"

"Well.. yes. Hers wasn't working properly, so I've let her work on mine a few times." He shook his head. "What are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, Timothy, is your little bit on the side is accessing files that she should not be accessing."

"Just one second now!" Tim's voice raised at the insult, clearly not used to seeing Lavenski in such a state. "You have no right to make such accusations without proof."

Lavenski calmed some as he sat again. "Fine then. Bring Melissa here, so that I may talk to her. She is not in the building. I expect you can do this much?"

Tim frowned, but nodded anyway. He was more than a little curious himself about what she had to say.

"And Timothy." Tim turned back as he was about to leave. "You understand your future at BSL is at stake. It was your ignorance that let this happen. Make sure you remedy it." Tim frowned, then turned to leave.

----

The planet was a dirty and dusty place that pretty much signified everything Samus knew about it. But it was a place she had frequented often enough for her to have gotten over the state of it. She remembered her first time here on the surface of Naragneha in search of work, her name was not known and to all concerned she was some newcomer wanting to steal work from more talented and experienced bounty hunters. The place was disgusting, she couldn't help but think she had made a mistake to do this. That perhaps she wouldn't be able to succeed, to be the warrior that her Chozo family had made her out to be. There was death, greed and lust on every corner from the worst of every species But her first job was done with flourish and style, and soon her name and legend spread among the planets. Morals were something Samus had to ignore long ago. The jobs she took were not all of a noble nature.

It had been some time since she had returned here. Work was not the foremost thing in her mind in recent days. As her ship docked in the large landing bay, she turned on her security locks before leaving the comfort of her ship, stepping onto the cool metallic interior of the hanger. It was not long before she was recognized, and whispers trailed wherever she went.

Usually her first stop was at the bar, mostly to pick up customers or threaten a Hunter that thought himself big enough to challenge her. It was not until now that she went directly to her informant on this planet, wanting to know all she could. Her boots crunched the rotten food and alien excrement that lined the streets, moving from the main district into the worse streets if there could even be as such. Women and men began to fall into her view, lining up in front of broken and looming buildings. All different species, all different kinds, anyone with the mind for a quick fuck had no further to go. And most of the Hunters did come by here, not to mention the employers.

Yet not one called to her as she walked down the street, they only looked on in curiosity at the gold and rust figure that stalked through the grime. They knew her here as well, and they knew they shouldn't bother. Samus had only ever said one thing to a hooker, just when she was becoming renowned on this planet.

A young male, not experienced enough to have that look of defeat most of the people had here. "Care for a trick?"

Samus had stopped, staring at him in a very intimidating manner but he had not backed down. "Why?"

"Have fun. Relax. All work and no play makes a Hunter cranky."

"I like cranky."

"Too bad."

"Maybe I wouldn't be if I didn't have to see your type here all the time. Maybe if all of you lived like you should, with homes and family. But that's all just cosmic bullshit isn't it?"

He looked like he understood, but shrugged. "Hey, that's life."

Samus tossed a few credits at the boy before moving on. "Tell everyone here that if I see any of you try what you just did with me, I'll be a lot less happy and I wont be responsible if they don't manage to turn up after that. Better to just kill you all then let you live like you do."

He looked in surprise, clearly shocked at the threat. And for some reason, he didn't doubt it. "I'd say a lot of them would want that."

"I wouldn't mind doing them the favor."

But there had never been another after that. As much as they claimed to want death, they were too busy scrambling to survive, the instinct to live was too deep within them all. She couldn't remember seeing that young man after that. Perhaps he had left, perhaps he had died. She hadn't bothered to find out, but suspected he was better off whichever was true.

The filth of the streets began to lessen some as she approached a tall building, this one built solid and straight. She frowned at the sight, sighing slightly as she forced the door open through the lock, stepping inside.

It was hot and sticky within and Samus could see it, the slick sheen of sweat that hung in the air and dripped off the walls. There was no one here now, closed for the day. Samus hated this place more than anything- always the thought of what would she do if it was her in here. Would she be as silent and dead as they were? A huff caused her to look up into the tense face of the owner, and Samus let herself grin a bit at the irritation on the other woman's face.

Lady Vivine, and Samus snorted to herself that the woman could ever be a lady, swooped down the stairs in poised stature, dark eyes burning and dark colored lips pressed together.

"We are closed, if you did not notice. Come back in a few hours, I'm sure you can relieve yourself some other way until then."

Samus resisted the urge to laugh out loud at that. "I'm not here for that. I'm looking for a girl you... employ here."

Vivine looked hard, trying to decipher the tall bounty hunter that stood before her. "Why?"

"Because I need to talk to her." Sometimes it was too hard to be vague, and Vivine was not a woman to be taken lightly. Her dark black hair streaked with silver strands fell loose over her shoulders. She was a beautiful woman, but Samus could see how tired she was. It left her cold inside.

"I don't indulge information about my girls to anyone." Her tone clearly thought her word was final.

"Her name is Natalia." Samus said, as if not hearing.

There seemed to be a flicker of emotion in Lady Vivine's somber eyes. "Tell me why I should let her see you."

"Tell her Samus is asking for her."

Vivine frowned, not pleased at the mention of that particular name and thought a moment before replying. "Very well. But you may only speak with her for a few minutes, she needs her rest."

Samus frowned herself, not visible to the other woman. She sighed, knowing there would be no way she could get the girl away from this place.

There were a few minutes as Samus waited, thinking perhaps Vivine intended to just leave her here. She wouldn't put it past the old witch, and wondered if she should leave. There were surely other places she could go.

A sleepy-eyed girl in her teens descended the stairs, and Samus looked on with overwhelming pity. She was almost like a younger sister- one of the few people Samus could admit to caring about. And every time she saw her, she told herself she wouldn't care, that this girl chose what she was doing to herself. It didn't help.

Her brown eyes widened upon seeing Samus' tall figure, and a touch of a seductive smile came upon the girl's face as she descended down the stairs rapidly. Lady Vivine stood atop, clear disapproval on her face. She hated any threat of one of her girls leaving.

"So, decided you couldn't live without me, eh lover?" She had purposely pitched down her voice as if to appear older than she was, and Samus shook her head in exasperation. The situation had been more than awkward when she had first met the girl. Seeing her abused viciously by a man on the side street, bloody and broken and about to be raped. It wasn't a terribly uncommon thing on this planet, but something in Samus clenched at the sight. Maybe it was the sight of broken innocence, but she couldn't ignore it. She had to intervene.

The man had yelped as Samus lifted him by his shirt, throwing him off of the girl. "If I ever see you near her again, I will break your spine." Her voice was low and dark, and with his face a pasty white, the man nodded and ran. Bounty Hunters were not to be taken lightly here- and any threat by one was held in the highest regard.

The young girl sat, her knees pulled up close to her chest as tears tracked down her face, staring up at Samus in absolute awe. She couldn't have been older than twelve. Only a child really.

"Are you all right?" Samus felt odd at the concern she heard in her own warped voice. The skinny girl had only nodded, shaking. "You should get home, where do you live?"

The girl didn't say anything, and stared up at Samus with the same expression. Slight impatience leaked through, "Do you have a home?"

She shook her head.

Pulling her up by the arm, trying not to notice the flinch, Samus took her to the first place that came to mind - the foundling home. It wasn't a good place for children, but it was safe. Samus had promised herself to come back and check on the girl every once in a while, just to make sure. She also had refused to think of herself as attached to the child. She was a bit more realistic now.

When she had come back a month later, the girl had launched at her in a crushing hug she could feel through her armor, talking a mile a minute. The girl revealed her name to be Natalia, and there was an adoration in her eyes that was tinged with something else. Desire. Samus felt an uncomfortable understanding that Natalia never even considered Samus could be anything other than her prince charming. Never considered she could be a woman. To Natalia, Samus was a handsome rogue under the suit, the mystery even more compelling. And she had never ceased to stop throwing herself at the hunter since then

After a while, the situation only became amusing. The only problem with Natalia was she either didn't understand authority, or didn't acknowledge it. Only Samus could get her to listen to anyone, always dragging her away from the brothels she would go to for money, back to the foundling home.

Now Natalia had filled out some, her form on the path to that of a woman. But to Samus, she was still the scared skinny child she had saved.

"Need I remind you we have never made love?" Samus' voice was amused.

"Well you could always take that suit off and we could fix that little problem." Her smile was wide, "Besides, we have spiritual love."

Samus snorted, but gestured her to follow to another room away from prying ears. "I can't say I didn't expect you to be here" Samus frowned, she hadn't even bothered to check the foundling home for Natalia. "Why did you come back?"

The smirk on the girl's face faded in hearing the disappointment in Samus' voice. "Doing my job."

"If I knew you'd become another disease spreading whore, I never would have saved you." Anger began to rise up white hot within the pit of Samus' stomach, and instantly she regretted the words as she saw Natalia's expression of hurt. But the girl rapidly became angry herself.

"What do you care? You only show up every few months, drag me back to that fucking awful place where they starve children and leave again. Its been almost a year since I last saw you, don't make it seem like you fucking care. Shità½€ I don't even know who you areà½€" The outburst was followed by a thick silence and eventually the rage across the girl's face lessened to hopelessness.

"No, you don't." Samus had turned away slightly. She knew long ago she would never reveal herself to Natalia. It would be putting forth too much trust, and Samus wasn't ready to give it. She still had a mission to fulfil.

"And I never will, will I?" Natalia's voice had calmed, a sad knowing tone. Samus shook her head. Natalia wiped at her nose discreetly, changing the subject before it became any worse. "What did you want to see me for?"

It was usually another thing Samus went to the girl for - she had knowledge of everything that happened on the streets of this planet. Sometimes it would be from customers, other times just things she'd pick up from passing conversations where they would pay no mind to a meaningless prostitute. And she always tried her best to listen for Samus.

"Besides to drag you back?" Her voice was teasing and Natalia smiled slightly.

"Yeah."

"I want to know if you've heard anything. Specifically anything that has to do with a race called Tolricians."

Natalia looked at her blankly, and Samus tried not to be disappointed. "They're like fish people, aquatic creatures."

She screwed her face in thought, then her eyes lit as she smiled. Samus tried not to feel her stomach hurt at the sight. "Yeah, actually, I remember something. Just the other day, I was working near the bar when I hear these two tough looking fuckers talk about some kind of abductions with fishes"

It was a start, and the news was welcome. Of course, it could turn out to actually have been fishes, but somehow Samus felt she was on the right track. Unseen to the girl, Samus smiled at her. "Happen to catch one of their names?"

"Well, I picked one of 'em up, even though I wanted his friend since he was much hotter. I remember him calling the guy Rus, but I don't know the John's name."

Samus felt torn between laughing and giving the girl a good verbal thrashing being at this business so casually. "Rus? You sure that's what he called him?"

She nodded, a neatly plucked brow raised. "What, you know him? Blonde, stubbly, really hot?"

Samus smirked to herself, and decided not to comment on the repeated 'hot' remarks. "I know him." Her tone turned serious as she laid a hand on Natalia's shoulder. "Why do you keep doing it? Is it because you know it pisses me off?"

"Partly." Her own voice had no teasing in it. As Samus looked into the young girl's face, she realized there was an oldness to her, an experience gained. "I want you to be so fucking mad you'll just haul my ass back with you so I wont do it again." So frank, so monotone, Samus unconsciously tightened the grip on the girl's shoulder. "Anyway, there's nothing else I can do on this planet. The women become whores or convenient fucks that don't charge. I need money to survive here, in case you don't know. Plus, Vivine makes sure the Johns are clean so we don't get sick like the others do. This place is high end, I'm lucky I'm here."

There wasn't much Samus could say. How could she convince her if she knew this was the truth herself? What could she possibly do? She didn't need to deal with this shit, she shouldn't have to. Yet here she stood..

"You're right." Samus removed her hand and saw the small frown on the girl's face at the loss of contact. "But I know you can be better than that. And fuck, I swore after the first day I'd maybe drop in to see if you were getting along ok. And leave it at that. But I didn't, and now its obvious I've screwed myself because of it."

Natalia smiled wanly.

"Fine. You say Vivine takes good care of you? Keeps you clean and fed?" The girl nodded. "Then stay. I can't force you to do anything, you're right. I'm nothing to you. And you're nothing to me." Samus saw the flinch, and averted her eyes. She wanted to turn, to leave and let this girl just be who she would have been anyway. Samus hadn't prevented anything. But Natalia reached out, her hand resting on the metal breastplate of the suit. There was no seduction in her move, only an empathy and wisdom that shouldn't have been in one so young. Her fingers trailed the carved grooves, trailing slightly to lay against the cool steel.

"I'll still help you, whenever you need me. Just don't think I'm going to change."

Samus felt a sudden sadness, and she nodded.


	5. Partnership

**Part 5**

Even before she stepped through the doors to the bar, Samus could already hear the muffled sounds of rambunctious laughter and shouts that were barely kept within. It was a place she had been to often enough, the unofficial gathering place for hunters and their business. Her first time there had left behind numerous injuries and a consideration - a start. So she took every single job she could, no matter the danger. Her name had slowly gained respect from criminals and bounty hunters alike.

Once she became established, word had spread of her deeds. Now Samus pushed through the swinging doors to the lewd music and disarray within. Hookers clung to over-zealous men at the bar, and in the back where the lights were dimmed, transactions took place.

Rather pointless, she had thought. No man had the fear of law here, the police stationed on this planet left them alone after gaining some extra money in their pockets.

Her eyes scanned the bar, searching for the light haired man Natalia had mentioned. Finding him tossing back a drink near the end of the bar in a booth, it seemed he had just minutes before closed a deal.

She slid in across from him, and the man flicked his eyes up at the intrusion. A lopsided grin formed on his rugged face and Samus briefly thought of Natalia's appreciation with an amused grin.

Raising his eyebrows, the man leaned forward on his hands. "Well Samus old boy, long time no see. And here I thought you moved up in the world. Or finally fucking died. Too bad, a lot of people would have been happy."

"Not you, I'm sure." Samus' wry response elicited a chuckle from the man across from her.

"No, had to admit I'd miss your charming company."

"I'll bet."

He laughed. With bright green eyes and light blonde hair, Rusedar was indeed an easy sight to see. It was obvious the man's youthful face worked against him, and the rough beard and mussed up appearance only made him appear like a young boy trying desperately to be butch. Samus knew she would never have thought him capable if she hadn't seen him in action with her own eyes. Rus had his share of experiences and had proven himself a worthy bounty hunter.

"No, really. What are you here for?"

To the point. Something she actually like about him, even if she could have done without the rest. The boy was irritating to a fault.

"A source tells me you may know something about recent pirate association with aquatic based life-forms."

He smiled slightly, cocking his head to the side. "How much am I getting for this share in confidence?"

Cheeky bastard. "Five hundred."

His smile turned to a smirk. "I wipe my ass with five hundred."

"Don't get cocky, you've only been seeing business because I haven't been here to take it.

"Threatening, Samus?"

"I usually don't find the need to." her voice was low and dangerous.

He muttered. "Eight hundred."

"Seven."

"Seven fifty."

She knew he was haggling just to be an ass about it, but the glint in his green eyes made it obvious.

"Fine."

He smiled. "Yes, I know. Found this little runt after I made a sweep of a space ship on Federation borders. It was small, only a handful of pirates aboard. So I'm about to take this one down when he starts jabbering at me, in actual common language. Me, I didn't know they could do anything but screech, but he tells me he'll let me know their operation if I don't kill him. Well, me, I don't care, and I don't plan on letting the shit live, so I play along. He starts going on about tolri-somethings, fishes or some sort."

Samus nodded, not letting her interest show.

"Tells me about experiments and such, then out of nowhere, he clams up. Thing couldn't keep his trap shut and all of a sudden, nothing. Then I notice the blood and he falls over. One of his crew killed him before he could tell me anything more. I try and interrogate the second one, but he wont say a word, so I kill him. Now, here's where it gets good..."

Rus grinned, square white teeth as he leaned forward in the excitement of his story.

"Another ship... this one way bigger, is detected on the scanners. They send a message, regular screeching stuff I can't understand, but at this point I'm thinking hell, bigger ship bigger pay. So I wait silently for them to send some guys in to investigate why there's no response. I don't wait long... but these guys, these are big ass fuckers. Not like the skinny little pirates you usually think of. They stomp in, looking around, go to the computer and punch in a few things, then turn to leave.

Now here I am, hiding behind the terminals, thinking if I should bother taking these guys on. Surely the ship is full of these guys, and while I _am _amazing, I don't want a death wish. So I let them go, but quickly get into my own ship that's docked inside, and turn on the tracking and cloak."

Samus didn't interrupt, but had to wonder just where Rus had gotten the money to deck out his ship like that. Tracking and cloak both? Last she remembered, the guy always blew his earnings on gambling and whores. Maybe he'd finally grown some common sense.

"I follow 'em for a while, but then they reach orbit of a planet and touch down. I know there has to be more of them down there - a home base even - and think I'd better sit this one out. But I'm planning, just think of the glory if I could bring that place down!"

"But you're sitting this one out." Samus reminded, voice monotone but lips turned up in amusement.

He in turn had the good grace to look sheepish. "Yeah, well, like I said. I don't have a death wish. I can't go in there alone."

"What are the coordinates?"

"Ah ah ah..." Rus shook his head again, "that wasn't part of the information. You asked me about what I know about the fish people... not if I knew where they are. That costs extra."

"How about my fist smashing your face?" She made it sound compassionate, but really she wouldn't have that much of a problem with it.

He faltered slightly. "You wouldn't, too many people around."

"Never stopped me before." He obviously remembered too, and frowned.

"Fine. Only one condition."

She waited, completely still for him to go on. She knew it made people uncomfortable when she didn't move or speak, using it to her advantage.

"This is going to be a joint-mission."

"No deal." Her answer was immediate. She knew she wouldn't be able to stand him, and besides, this wasn't about money. As hard as it was for people like Rus to understand, sometimes there were greater things that drove people.

_Like vengeance?_

She pushed the voice out of her mind as Rus frowned. "Then I'm not giving you those coordinates."

She sighed, standing. "There's other ways I could make you. I don't want to waste time, and as much fun as it would be, my methods of making people talk are lengthy."

He looked stubborn, if a bit pale in the face. "Look Samus, I got the information, the means, everything. We don't like each other, its obvious, but you have to know you can't do this alone."

"I always do."

He shook his head. "Even you couldn't, miracles withstanding. I know you can pull off shit other Hunters couldn't begin to fathom, but you're still mortal."

She smiled. "So you don't believe the rumors then?"

He shook his head. "Not one android I've seen can annoy me as much as you can. That talent can't be made artificially."

She had the urge to laugh, but smothered it. It wouldn't do for the image after all.

"80/20."

"Oh come on. At least split it 60/40. We're going completely on my information"

She shook her head. "80/20"

He frowned, knowing there really was no room to argue here. "Fine."

"The coordinates?"

He smiled. "You think I'll actually tell you? No no, I need insurance, I'll punch them in myself. We'll go in my ship, no need for an extra vessel that can't cloak."

She frowned slightly, making a mental note to get that fixed.

----

Melissa felt ridiculously paranoid as she left the BSL building; the disc with the information was heavy in her pocket and it took immense willpower for her not to glance over her shoulder every other step. But still, there was the sheer thrill of the act. Small though her duty was, she could maybe understand why her husband was in his chosen career. It was one of the reasons both of them had gotten together so well when they first met. Similar personalities, with the same likes and dislikes. When they began to date regularly though, they found the downside of their matched tempers. There hadn't been a shortage of explosions, and it was a wonder they could even stand each other.

Somehow it worked out, and when she accepted Andrew's proposal they knew they loved each other just as much as they hated each other. Most likely more. She smiled slightly at the thought, but knew her life wouldn't have been half as satisfying without him.

Her heels clicked the sidewalk as she tried to walk at a normal pace down the street to the diner where Patrick had wanted to meet her. He was an odd man, Andy's partner and best friend, but despite his crude manners Melissa could see he had a soft heart. She wondered just why he hadn't found a woman for himself. There had always been the occasional fling with him, she remembered the different girls on his arm every week and Andy's shrug at his friend's behavior. Recent months had left Patrick overworked and stressed and it was now more than ever that he needed a break.

Of course, the disk in her hand indicated he wouldn't be resting any time soon. Just as long as Kowl didn't drag her husband into it, she was happy to help. The small voice of reason in the back of her mind reminded her that she very well had a chance of losing her job over this. And for some reason, it didn't bother her as much as it should have.

The small diner was on the corner of Fifth and Main, an ancient looking place she could have believed was from Earth centuries before. Perhaps it was designed for those nostalgic purposes, though just who could be old enough to have remembered them was beyond her.

Even through the glass window, Melissa could see Patrick's profile, bent over with his head leaning on his fist. He looked very old right then, and a frown formed on her pretty features. His face was creased and dark smudges were beneath his eyes. But rather than letting these things get him down, she could see the nervous air around him. He was wired - on who knew how many Irish coffees.

Pushing through the doors, she walked towards his booth as he glanced up and nodded to her. She slid in across and the disk rattled slightly in the pocket of her coat.

"You look like hell, Patrick."

He laughed. "Now where have I heard that before? Ah yes, it's the first thing you've said to me every time we've met."

She rolled her eyes. "Because you do look like hell every time I see you. It wouldn't hurt to lay off the drinking for a while, you look like you're perpetually hung over."

"Feels like it too," he muttered but grinned slightly. "How are you Melissa? Andy isn't being a shit now is he?"

She smiled, "Not lately."

"Good. I'd have to kick his ass if he did." He paused as he breached the real topic of their meeting. "Do you have it?"

She nodded, and pulled out the small plastic disk from her pocket. It felt as if she were revealing some terrible secret as she did so, handing it over to Kowl, and she hesitated slightly before she let go.

As for Patrick, he simply took it as if were nothing more than a useless piece of plastic, then sipped his coffee as natural as anything.

She shook her head slightly. "How do you do it, Patrick? You and Andy. I nearly had a heart attack doing this, but you two do things like this as if it's just a game."

"It's never a game. We're just used to it I guess. Conditioned. At least, I am, Andy seemed to have had his fill of our work."

"Why do _you_ keep doing it?"

He paused, silent for a moment or so. "I'm not sure. Something to do I guess. And that I just can't let go of something once I've gotten a whiff..."

She snorted slightly, then stood. "I'd really best get back to the building. Lunch is almost over."

Kowl stood alongside her. "Let me walk you out."

As they exited the diner, Melissa frowned, stopping as she furrowed her brows at something that caught her attention. A man across the street was standing in an obviously forced casual slouch, and she met his gaze in surprise as he raised his hand in a wave.

"Tim?" Her voice wasn't loud enough to carry across the street, but Kowl looked up and caught the stare.

"Who is that?"

"He's a man I work with." She shook her head. "What is he doing here?"

Kowl frowned as he got one of his bad feelings. "How well do you know him?"

"Well enough." she shot him a concerned look. "Why?"

"Maybe you should skip going back to work."

Surprised, Melissa looked back at where her co-worker stood moments before to find him gone. An odd feeling passed through her and she nodded.

----

Mack rubbed at her face in frustration and sheer weariness. It had been much too long since Kowl had left and there was only so far she was able to cover for him. Meticulously studying the pirate data Kowl had brought her took most of the afternoon and into night as she finally glanced around to see the Federation building mostly empty. Apparently, other people actually had lives. The thought made her sigh again.

Now she had come back to her own apartment, making ready to fall asleep as the sharp knock on her door made her wheeze in anger. Figures the bastard would come in the middle of the night right when she was going to go to sleep and angrily sat up, going to the door.

"Kowl, why I never would have known." Monotone voice or not, Mack knew her partner could sense every bit of anger and annoyance.

Kowl on the other hand smiled in that irritating way of his. "Love you too Vkul."

She shook her head in exasperation as she moved aside to let Kowl in... followed by a pretty brunette. "Kowl, who is that?"

She in turn looked just as irritated as Mack. "You could ask me yourself. Melissa Price, pleased to meet you."

Mack had a feeling she was anything but and it amused her enough to lift the foul mood slightly. Kowl rubbed off on her too much, she sighed and it sounded a bit like a puff of air. Melissa Price raised an eyebrow and walked in past her.

"Make yourselves at home" she muttered, closing the door. "Now do you mind filling me in on what the hell you've been doing?"

Kowl turned back at her as he sat on her couch and there was a gleam in his eye that made Mack wonder just what he could have uncovered. Instead of responding, he held up a disc. "This is what is going to lead us to what is really going on with those pirate attacks."

"Is that so?" Mack glanced at Melissa and Kowl caught the look.

"Its okay, she's the one who got it."

Shrugging, Mack took the disc to her computer, popping in the disc and letting the data load. "BSL profile on Franklin Jung..." she looked back at Melissa, "You need very high clearance to access this."

"I have my methods." She looked back at Mack and the detective had to admit the woman had balls. She let out a small chuckle that only Kowl could identify who in turn looked at her oddly. Mack ignored him.

"Found to have stolen samples of genetic material as well as operating without informing the Federation." She scanned the pages... "He was a very brilliant man. Too much so, but apparently ethics didn't bother him much. More often than not he would experiment on sentient beings by injecting them with diseases to study the effects. But he brought in numerous cures in the process. Says here he was also close to a breakthrough on regenerating body parts."

Kowl was listening intently, nodding here and there as Kowl read aloud. "When was he expelled from BSL?"

"About twenty-five years ago. He was also one of the youngest leading scientists of his time."

"This is our guy, Mack. Does it list next of kin? He must have some ties that we can look into."

"A daughter. I think she'd be our best shot."

----

"There was a man with her... a friend of her husband"

Lavenski leaned forward slightly behind his desk, staring the younger man down. "What are you trying to tell me, Timothy."

Seeing the man flush and mutter, Lavenski shook his head. He knew he should have sent out security to bring Melissa Price back to the building. This was his own fault. But he didn't tell this to the man across from him, letting him fester in his own misery.

He couldn't blame the boy, Price had a face on her that could tempt a saint. So he had slipped up, let his hormones get in the way. It was understandable. The information that the woman had left with, that he could not let go.

"Do you know this man's name?"

Tim shook his head. "No, I don't know." He paused then, and his brow furrowed as he tried to recall something. Lavenski sat expressionless. "I think he was her husband's old partner."

The old scientist's smile was disturbing, such a radical change from the cold and dead look he was so used to seeing. "Good. You can go now, Tim."

The younger man stood, hesitating slightly. "She... isn't in too much trouble is she?"

"We'll see to that when it comes, Tim."

Nodding slightly, he turned and left. Lavenski waited a few moments before he reached over and picked up the phone, punching in a few numbers. "Let me speak to Hardy."


	6. Memory

**Part 6**

The silence was thick in the empty white hues of artificial light. Plain and faceless, a corporate building as mass produced as the people that worked within it. The clean hallways were in precise design, efficacy in every angle. There were offices and shuffling papers as the men and women drank cup after cup of coffee to keep themselves coherent. A woman was typing at a computer system, transcribing the results of something or another. She didn't even read the words in context of one another, only typed them out to get the work done and filed.

"_Subject ceases to scream even after several injections of anesthesia, blood flow within non-human species contains 50 drop in oxygen levels. Subjects die of asphyxiation if blood flow is not regulated in clockwise direction._"

She chewed on a pieces of candy, popping it in her mouth with one hand pausing briefly in her typing.

In another part of the building, a man with dark hair beginning to be framed with silver was sitting at a desk. He glanced through files, shifting through photos. Each subject file was thick, and the hard copy stamped classified in large red letters, official Federation seal marking the top level access.

"Dr. Jung, your 3:30 is here to see you."

Jung pressed the intercom button, "Send him in." In his hands, the classified file included charts of physical and biological data, psychology reports and still more video and audio files documenting the progress of surgeries. It was rather exciting as he looked through it all, though not as much when he looked at the other case files. Separated into two groups, the blue folders were promising, the manilla folders not as much. Still, blue outnumbered manilla, and that was better than when they had started all of this.

A knock at the large double doors that led into his office interrupted his review, and he let the file close as he called for his guest to enter. The figure was striking and completely at odds with the corporate office, but he walked in and sat comfortably in front of the desk..

A translation device was set onto the guest's neck, and he stared at Jung. "What of the progress?"

"Remarkably well." Dr. Jung smiled. "Each of your provided subjects are adjusting rapidly to the regulatory units we placed inside. As you well knew, earlier versions were outside the body, but we have refined it enough that we can surgically place it inside their chest cavities with minimal problems."

"That is good to hear. What of the transformation?"

"This is less satisfactory, though still baffling. Those of the subjects you provided are changing rapidly and the cause is unknown. When our subjects are given the alien blood, they do not change outwardly as much. We believe because your species has similar physiology, you adjust quicker."

"But you do not understand the cause? Do the subjects still retain their personalities? Their minds?"

"Unfortunately no. This is not so in either species. We have ever had one series of successful integrations, but those subjects were lost to us years ago."

"I see."

Dr. Jung folded his hands on his desk. "Now, I'm wondering, when do you plan to hold up your side of the bargain?"

The guest raised his hairless brows. "When you successfully deliver a completed subject."

"That time approaches ever soon."

"Do not worry." The guest smiled, though Dr. Jung felt that it was none too reassuring. "You will receive your payment. I wonder though, how your superiors do not know about me."

"Oh, they do. You think you can come in here without them knowing? Of course they do. They just don't know some of the... more specific details of our personal arrangement."

The guest nodded, standing. "You will need to send your specialists with me so they can inform my own surgeons. I expect the data files are ready for me to take with me?"

Jung handed him a data stick from his desk drawer, careful of the sharp claws.

"I expect I will come soon as well, oversee your surgeons briefly."

The guest nodded, turning to leave. "Dr. Jung. Don't forget, when you double cross people in power, you need to make yourself scarce. The consequences wont be pleasant." The guest's eyes met Jung's, their soft glow making him lower his gaze.

Jung frowned, unsure if the double meaning was intentional or not. "I'll keep that in mind." The thud of the door rattled the objects in his office, and Jung sighed slightly. He wished he could get his own subjects to progress as well as theirs. The new humans brought in just were not blending correctly - after centrifuge, the injected blood would cease to react. They had to go about it another way, tediously separating out all of the elements.

He stopped to ponder the problem, wondering if they would ever reach a breakthrough. It seemed humans were not made to last this way, like a flame burning fierce and bright, but dying out all too soon.

Reaching for one of the manilla folders, Jung opened it, his trained eyes picking out any important details. The carbon levels within the blood itself were astounding, though never enough to poison. Coupled with the strains of a substance similar to testosterone found in humans and the high number of hydrogen bonds in the other unrecognizable substances at constant equilibrium made the blood difficult to work with. Any attempt to break the bonds required massive amounts of energy, though the reaction caused was almost as grand. Jung hadn't quite understood this odd behavior any. Along with this, any addition of something foreign would throw off the equilibrium and make the blood pH either too acidic or too basic, effectively killing the subject.

He frowned, thinking about the amount of time it took them to find a proper buffer solution that would let the subject live. Even after that, the subjects would be slow to adjust and their bodies would undergo a strong and fast increase in muscle mass and agility. The substance would increase activity in the brain, but the subject would apparently exhibit signs of complete regression. Their minds, though working at double efficacy, seemed not to respond to any outside stimulus.

He sighed, glancing up at the picture of a clean cut young man in Federation uniform. Now he was essentially a brainless and useless shell of flesh.

Slamming the file shut, Jung rapidly stood. The case's difficulty only drew him in deeper, but he knew that his partnership with the guest who had recently departed was dangerous. Once he had what he wanted, Jung figured he was as good as dead. Why leave loose ends after all?

The lingering words of advice made him think twice. Was he on to him? Did he know what Jung was planning? It made Jung worry, and he pushed the file away to stand and turn to the large glass window behind his desk. He stared at the dark night sky and felt a frown make its way on his face.

----

Kowl understood the intricacies of being a pain in the ass. It took him years to perfect, and plenty of people to practice on, but he was pretty sure it had been the greatest challenge with his new partner. Mack, for the most part, just didn't react. It was disconcerting at times, he knew for a fact in the early days he thought she was genetically incapable of being pissed off. Well, he had proven that theory wrong on several occasions, but this one he had to admit was the most interesting.

Was old Mack jealous? He had to stop the laugh before it made its way out of his throat. Mack would most likely throw him out, and the couch was comfortable enough. Melissa was a looker, but Mack never expressed outright dislike of any of the girls Mack had dated. Besides the fact that Melissa wasn't his girl to date, and this was a thought that had crossed Kowl's mind many times before. And if Andy ever caught him considering it, well... best not to think about it. He knew he'd get his ass handed to him anyway next time he saw his friend since his wife was staying the night here along with him.

It made him think about his partner, and the thought left him confused. She wasn't even close to the same species as he was, and he probably was just misreading her. Mack... feeling? The thought was too ridiculous to even entertain.

The darkness of Mack's apartment was comforting. He had only spent a few nights here, but the bland Spartan atmosphere was just so appropriate. Not a stick of personality to the place, and it was oddly right. It was hard to get his mind to stop thinking after the last few days. It felt like old times, chasing after the hot cases, puzzling investigations that took time and effort to crack. Kowl understood he was hardly young, but the adrenaline just wasn't leaving.

He knew he had exceeded orders days ago. In fact, if Hardy found out where he was going with this, he'd probably be knocked down to patrolling officer, giving out expired licence tickets. That is, if he hadn't suspected already. The old man wasn't a complete idiot, even if he seemed like it most of the time.

Shifting slightly, the couch springs squeaked loud in the silence. Most probably both Melissa and Mack were asleep, and he was just wasting his energy.

Which was why he almost didn't notice the light from the hallway outside Mack's apartment shift as someone passed close to the door. His eyes narrowed, and slowly he sat up, reaching for his sidearm. Whoever it was on the other side hesitated, as if unsure what to do, before knocking.

Knocking? Kowl blinked, glancing at the clock. Did the guy actually expect anyone to be awake at this hour? Kowl stood slowly, making sure to keep his steps quiet, the gun heavy and comfortable in his hand as he approached the small peep hole.

An apparently unarmed male in his thirties hovered outside, anxious expression on his face. Kowl frowned, wondering at the strange feeling he had at the sight. Like he'd seen this guy somewhere before. Quietly, he unlocked the door, swinging it open with his weapon pointed at the man's head.

His eyes widened almost comically at the sight of Kowl's hard face and the gun pointed at his own.

"Who the hell are you?"

The man swallowed, "Ah. Is this were Melissa Price is?"

"I repeat. Who the fuck are you?"

He frowned, arms crossing his chest. "Ah... well, its hard to explain when you're aiming that thing at me. Mind if I come in?"

"Yes."

The commotion must have woken his partner, because he could feel her shifting presence behind him with her own sidearm at the ready.

"Look, just... my name is Tim Gable, I uh, I work with Melissa Price. And I think I might have put her in danger."

Kowl glared as he remembered where he saw this guy. Outside the diner where he had met up with Melissa. Grabbing the guy's collar, he pulled him inside the apartment, gun still at his head. Mack closed the door, and Kowl prayed Melissa was smart enough not to come out.

"Lets hear it."

Tim swallowed again, clearly nervous about the situation. "Look. The head of the research department where we both work, Dr. Lavenski, was questioning me about her. I pinpointed you since I saw you both together. But I'm not so sure his intention are ... uh, noble. I have the feeling something bad is going to happen, and I just- I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Kowl searched the man's face carefully, and he heard Mack behind him exhale softly. "I think he telling the truth."

"Hm." Kowl nodded. "All right, fine. Thanks. Get the fuck out."

The other man seemed all too happy to do so. "Look, if... uh when, you see her. Just tell her I didn't mean anything bad to happen."

Kowl nodded, pointing with his gun towards the door. Once the man had left, Kowl lowered his arm. "Wake Melissa, we've got to leave tonight. If that moron could track us here, then anyone can... we're too far in this to stop now."

Mack looked down and lowered her own weapon.. "What do you mean stop?" She frowned. "Why do I get the feeling this is going to get us both fired?"

"You don't need to come, Mack."

"Of course I do." She said, irritated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Kowl grinned slightly.

----

With every moment, Samus was regretting her decision more and more. It had only been an hour since she and Rus had cemented their deal, and already the guy was in a middle of a brawl. Watching the scene play out from the corner booth, she frowned in irritation as a stool flew across the room causing a few patrons to dive out of the way.

Though they had both agreed to leave early the next day, she had stayed to talk and plan out their strategy. They had no floor plans, no idea of how many bodies were within the facility. They really had no idea what they were going to walk into, and Samus knew it would just be stupid not to find out all they could before making their move.

Rus had already contacted his own informant a few days ago about the planet he had coordinates for, but the response came up without anything helpful. Though Samus tried to coax him into giving her the planet address to give to Peco, he wouldn't budge, knowing all too well that Samus would ditch him in an instant if given the opportunity to go on this mission alone.

She sighed, and Rus threw a right hook, cracking a drunk's jaw, making his face whip back with a spray of blood from his mouth. It really had started with a stupid comment from a man with far too much to drink. Something to the effect of calling into question Rus's ability to preform in bed. Though Samus had to admit she found it slightly amusing, considering the drunk had never seen Rus before that moment, Rus didn't share her humor and immediately jumped the man. This had led to his friends giving the poor drunk some backup, but Samus felt she had no need to go to Rus's aid. He could hold himself in a fight, and she wasn't the type to help someone for no reason. If Rus was in extreme danger of dying, taking those coordinates with him, Samus would probably consider getting up.

But that didn't seem very likely as bottles smashed and blood flew, people beginning to cheer now, the bloodlust clearly spreading to onlookers as well as those in the fight. Rus had smashed another stool into a man's back, kicking another between the legs. The kid fought dirty, and swore profusely throughout it all, the initial drunk who had insulted him now on the ground getting punched over and over again in the face. His friends pulled Rus off, two grabbing a hold of each arm before a third gave him a working over.

Samus frowned, wondering if she should stand, before Rus kicked up fiercely, then threw his body weight to the side with all of his strength, making the guy on the right trip over a fallen stool, effectively freeing his right arm. Swinging around, he punched the last guy in the face, blood gushing out freely from a broken nose, before following through with a bottle smashed over the head.

The cheers turned into roars and applause as the four men backed off, the conscious dragging the unconscious away. Rus swayed slightly, his own face bruised and bloody, knuckles cut from glass, and he wiped at his face, stumbling back to the booth where Samus sat.

"Thanks for the help."

"Our little partnership doesn't mean I'm your buddy. You can handle yourself."

"Was that a compliment?" Rus smiled, teeth bloody as he laughed, then spit to the side of the table.

"Look, if you're done having fun then I suggest you come up with something helpful. We can't go in unprepared."

Rus didn't seem to be paying much attention to Samus as he leaned back, waving his hand for some beer. She pursed her lips, trying not to show a reaction and waited for him as he downed the bottle. "Agh, I need something harder. Get me a couple of shots, whisky sour." He turned and looked at her with a small grin. "Well, I hear you have a different informant now?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Yeah yeah, I know all about the little grey guy, but from what I hear, you've found someone better. Someone who can get you anything you want to know."

She kept her voice steady. "Where did you hear about that?"

He shrugged. "I've got my own sources. So, what. Do you think your new guy has what we need?"

Probably he did. Samus frowned, wondering at her hesitance to return to the hermit's planet. "Why are you so ready to go there, and not let me just contact my regular informant?" Her lips twitched up. "Its because you have no idea where this guy is, and you want to use him after our little mission. Get him to give you the hot leads, the highest paying jobs." She did laugh this time, but it came out slightly disturbing after filtering through her helmet.

Rus had the grace to look slightly embarrassed, but he covered it up quickly. "Fine, lets go to your old guy. Give me his contact number, I'll ask him myself."

"What makes you think he wont just tell me?"

Rus frowned and his eyes glittered. "Because if he does, I'll off him."

Samus raised an eyebrow, slightly impressed. She had a feeling he wasn't kidding, though Rus had never shown any attitude like this before. Seems he was learning.

"All right, go ahead."

Leaving him Peco's contact information, Samus stood, stretching her legs. She felt the first signs of excitement, of giddiness that came before any mission. The little skirmish a few days ago was nothing. What she needed was a full fledged battle. And she knew this had to be it, this had to be what she was looking for.

"We'll rendevous at the Fegan Spaceport in six hours. Clean yourself up." Samus ignored the eye roll, turning to leave the bar.

The sun had set by the time Samus walked outside, and with it an air of foreboding covered the small planet's surface. Any person who had concluded business had gone while hunters and patrons from the bar slowly trickled outside, some passed out while others headed home with someone to warm their beds. Samus paced the well worn dirt path, finding herself walking without a clear destination, simply letting her mind roam.

What would happen, once this was over? It was a question that had plagued her many sleepless nights, but each time she considered an answer, she just as quickly decided it wasn't time to think of it. She had never before been as close as she was now, close enough that she could touch the answer she so dearly craved.

She supposed a crusade always had to have a purpose. Was this really what she was doing? Fighting and tearing, clawing her way to something tangible in her life. Her eyes glanced up and she found herself walking the residential streets. Doors locked tightly, curtains drawn shut. This was a place of fear, and she frowned at the idea that she was a part of that.

The Old Bird always taught her that morality is a fragile thing. From afar, there is always a crystal clear idea of what right and wrong is, but once you begin to divide life into two categories, things begin to contradict. The stability crumbles. What is truly right can never be known.

"But the Space Pirates, certainly they are wrong. A true and real evil." Samus had said, years ago. Still only a child, sitting on the green fields of Zebes. A bright sky and a limitless future.

The Old Bird had only smiled at her, his eyes crinkling. "Do not let the acts of many cloud your judgement. They are evil to us, yes. Misguided and cruel. But to them, they are doing no wrong. And who are we do say they are incorrect? What gives us supremity over them?"

Samus had frowned. "I don't understand. Isn't killing wrong?"

"Yes child." The Old Bird laughed. "I suppose it is hard to see. What I mean is, the galaxy is a vast place. And in it, there are countless races and countless people. What we judge from our perspective may be right to us. But what of the other side of the galaxy? Don't you suppose in a place so infinite, that there can never be anything solid? That nothing can be taken as absolute truth?"

"But if we never take a stance on what we perceive is truth, is the result not chaos?"

The Old Bird cocked his head, looking down at Samus. For the bulk of her life, his eyes seemed like they were holding back, like she was too young to understand. When they looked at her then, there was a sadness in them she had never seen before. "You are wise, our newborn. And I see that your wisdom will bring with it pain. But keep this in your heart, child. Of the future you have, there is no set path. Your actions will shape the nature of your life and ours. Use your heart as well as your mind, for there are some answers that you will always know. It is only a matter of seeking them out."

This answer seemed rather circular to Samus at the time. She had only frowned and looked away, watching the leaves of the trees rustle quietly. The Old Bird squeezed her shoulder slightly and they had been silent, watching the sun set.

Samus sighed, blinking away the memory that was already starting to become hazy. Use her heart the Old Bird had said. She laughed to herself. The Chozo were so idealistic, in a world of their own. The Old Bird spoke of the limitless nature of the universe, but had he never seen it himself? Did he not know of the depravity and hatred? How could these people that she saw every day be right? Did he not realize that there must order, punishment to those that strayed into the wrong path? Did he not understand justice? They spoke in metaphors and riddles, but Samus had learned that such things never led anywhere.

Glancing down at her armored hand and cannon, she shook her head, realizing that her current thoughts would never lead her anywhere either. Perhaps the Chozo knew more than she could ever hope to understand. They talked of peace, yet created a warrior.

She wondered then, if the Old Bird would have approved of what she became. Was this what he had wanted? Was she his idea of a savior? So many years had gone by without her contacting them, and she knew somehow that they had gone.

This time, she knew, she would feel absolved. She would have enacted the revenge she wanted, the hatred and anger deep inside her. Once they paid for what they had done, she knew she could move on. Live her life the way the Chozo wanted her to.

The streets were very quiet, and she wondered that if places like this would continue to exist, she would never be able to rest. Somehow, she was resigned to this fate. She pursed her lips, and continued to walk, making her way back to her ship.


End file.
